


Goodbye

by kalwt



Category: Harry Stles/Louis Tomlinson, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Breakup, I'm so sorry for writing this, M/M, but it hurts so good, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalwt/pseuds/kalwt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this whole thing was inspired by a whorefrost tweet but i can't find the tweet :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye

“You know,” Harry called out, “I still remember the day you left, even though you didn’t say goodbye. Every morning, I still step on broken glass, walking down the stairs–those shards look better in my foot than they ever did on that table.”

Louis turned around to face Harry, a face he hadn’t seen in far too long and tried to reason with him. “Har-” he began, but was cut off.

“These empty walls every morning taunt me. They’re dull, they’re suppose to represent a new start, maybe, moving on, but the outline of where our pictures once use to hang still remind me that you were here, that you’re still here, and that you were a part of my life.”

The anger that had been there in the beginning was gone, his tone now laced with despair and sadness.

With a wet chuckle, Harry carried on.

“The couch though.. The couch is the goddamn worst. Remember when we had been dating for only a few months, and you thought it was funny to snatch my headband out of my hair? I chased you all over the house for it, and you jumped on the couch, and broke half the springs? A perfectly good couch, and one good jump from you and now it squeaks when you sit on it. I can’t sit on my own fucking couch without being reminded of you. We spent two weeks on this couch when we first moved in because our bed still had not came in, and now I can’t sleep in either place. The bedroom holds so much, but this couch, this couch is where everything started.”

“Why haven’t you left this place yet, then, Haz?” Louis curiously asked.

“Don’t, you don’t have the right to call me that anymore.”

“Why haven’t you?” Louis all but begged, his eyes shiny but his voice firm.

“Do you honestly think I haven’t tried? I’ve looked for new places, visited them, and almost even put a down payment on one, but I can’t. No matter how much you hurt me, I can’t leave this place. I’m trapped, I’m trapped because you never gave me the key to leave. You just walked out! You set your mug down on the table, and you walked out! You never came back Louis, not even to get your things, and you left without a goodbye, no “I’ve fallen out of love with you,” no “I can’t do this anymore.” You just fucking walked out and I never got to know why!“

"Is that what you called me for? Closure?”

“I just want a way out– I want to be able to start over.”

“You don’t think I haven’t thought about it, either? You don’t think I haven’t hated myself, every single day for walking out that door? I had one foot out into the hall, the door behind my back and you fucking whispered "Please don’t leave.” Harry’s gaze drifted to the door behind him, but Louis’ sight never once drifted off of him. “Harry, those three words have driven me mad ever since that day. That is all I hear. I don’t hear broken glass or piercing screams or the door clicking shut behind me, I hear your voice, it plagues my mind. I don’t know how to give you what you want Harry, I’ve never been what you needed, I’ve never given you what you needed, and I can’t start doing it now!” Louis finished breathlessly.

Harry was blank, motionless, and even statue-like; if it wasn’t for the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest, Louis would suspect that he had shut down all together.

Taking a step forward so that they were mere feet apart, Harry whispers, “tell me good-bye.”

“Harry, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you goodbye when I don’t want to leave.”

“You don’t get the option of staying anymore.” Harry angrily whimpered. “Please do this for me.”

“Harry.” Louis sniffles.

“Please. You let me go when you walked out all those weeks ago, help me to be able to do the same.”

“Goodbye, Harry. I hope the rest of your days are filled with the love and happiness that you deserve. You deserve more than me, you deserve more than anything in this world can give you. I hope you find someone who makes you happier than I ever could, who isn’t afraid to love you unconditionally. I hope you find someone who turns around when you plead for them to stay, I hope they run to you and wipe the tears from the eyes and kiss away the sadness– I hope you find someone who isn’t so good at running away from the things that scare them. I was a coward, I was selfish, but more than anything I am sorry Harry. Maybe years from now maybe I’ll run into you at the market, and you’ll be with someone know, and you’ll be smiling so hard I can see your dimples from three rows over. It was a privilege and an honor to call you mine Harry Styles, and I thank you for loving me as passionately as you did. Thank you for being my first true love, my bestfriend, and my soulmate all in one. Goodbye Harry, thank you for being you, thank you for existing and coming into my life and staying in it for so long.”

Wiping a single tear away from his eye, Louis turned around. There was no broken glass, there was no screaming, or no beautiful, broken boy pleading for him to stay.

Once he heard that familiar click, he turned away from everything he’d known since he was 18, and he did what he does best.

He ran.


End file.
